I thought it will be good math exercise for her so we began counting the years, comparing the differences in age between her and her favorite cousins, and how old she needs to be before she starts trail riding with me. Homeschooling? Precisely.
Counting the years, however, also brings to mind the finite. As we were going over it, the math exercises made me reflect on my own mortality.
I will be turning 52 in a few months and Carmella 9 a month after me. It will be 9 more years when she turns 18 and perhaps another 8 when she gets married. The 9 may be a stretch but the next 8, if I make it that far, will be a milestone. It will be a great blessing to be there for that next 8 years.
Sadly, thinking about those numbers made me imagine what I might miss.
I may no longer be there during the best days of her life, when she begins fulfilling her dreams.
I may no longer be there when she deals with the stages of falling in love and then, finally, seeing her off to start a family of her own.
I may no longer be there to see her firstborn.
I may no longer be there to hear her children laugh, play with them, shower them treats and feel their love through their hugs.
I may no longer be there to tell them stories of their mom's courage as she fought Leukemia.
Sobering thoughts, really.
But sobering they may be, thoughts of the finite can also lead one to pursue a determined effort to treasure and make the most of what we have, of the time still at hand. Truly, they are more precious than gold.
I may only have the now, the now to cherish each and every moment Carmella is with me. But it will be my legacy, my gold.
Yes, mortality makes for even a greater reason to love, to make the most of life, to be forever thankful that I have what I have.
And making the most of my present I will.
Fiercely.
